


the space between us (has disappeared)

by quoth_the_ravenclaw



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fisting, M/M, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9528695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quoth_the_ravenclaw/pseuds/quoth_the_ravenclaw
Summary: “Hey, Keiji,” Bokuto asks, eyes transfixed and the steady, slow path of Akaashi’s graceful fingers. “Did you mean it, when you said you want more?”"Yes,” Akaashi says, finally looking up. Their eyes lock, and Bokuto forgets how to breath. “I want everything you can give me.”aka: the bokuaka fisting fic i can't believe this fandom didn't already have





	

**Author's Note:**

> apparently all [ry](http://matsukawa---issei.tumblr.com/) has to do is casually mention that there isn't enough of something in the fandom and i will eventually write that thing
> 
> (title stolen from some bloc party lyrics because it's 1 am and naming shit is overrated)

Bokuto is, admittedly, not the most observant person.

But with Akaashi? When it comes to Akaashi, Bokuto feels hypersensitive, an open nerve on a livewire, eyes drawn to every movement, body alight at every touch.

So he notices things.

At first, it's just lingering glances, Akaashi’s eyes staying on him a moment longer than necessary during spiking practice or Akaashi’s gaze following Bokuto’s gesticulations when he gets excited while they're talking (and Bokuto is _always_ excited when he's talking to Akaashi). Then it's touches, Akaashi brushing his thumb over the bone of Bokuto’s knuckles, or wrapping Bokuto’s long fingers over his own. And then it's a kiss at the meat of Bokuto’s palm, a desperate grip around Bokuto’s wrist as Bokuto fucks him into the mattress, a needy cry of “more, Bokuto-san, I want more” and when Bokuto figures out what he means, he cums right on the spot.

They're laying in the lazy, sticky afterglow, Akaashi humming in contentment and running his finger up and down Bokuto’s forearm.

“Hey, Keiji,” Bokuto asks, eyes transfixed at the steady, slow path of Akaashi’s graceful fingers.

“Hmm?” Akaashi hums, eyes never straying from their task. He’s always so lazy and warm after sex. It gives Bokuto a thrill of satisfaction- _he_ did that. 

“Did you mean it, when you said you want more?”

“Yes,” Akaashi says, finally looking up. Their eyes lock, and Bokuto forgets how to breath. “I want everything you can give me.”

-

Probably there should be negotiations. Discussions of boundaries and safewords and aftercare. But Bokuto is a creature of instinct, plunging headfirst into action and depending on Akaashi to pull him back when things go too far too fast. Only this time, Akaashi is the one driving him onwards, pushing him to go further and faster.

That's how they end up sprawled on Bokuto’s bed, practice cancelled and roommate gone and the whole weekend to themselves.

The bed is probably too small for this, but by the way Akaashi is writhing on his sheets while Bokuto opens him up with his tongue, he doesn't seem to mind.

Bokuto loves Akaashi like this, uninhibited and wild, falling apart underneath him. He's got a strong hand gripping each thigh, working bruises into the tender skin as he holds Akaashi open and eats him out.

“Bokuto-san,” he cries out, name an endless litany. It drives Bokuto on, makes him hungry for it, for the way Akaashi gets desperate and breathless as his cries rise in pitch

“Ah, Bokuto-san, Bokuto-san stop, I'm-”

Bokuto pulls back immediately, eyes on Akaashi’s face. “What's wrong, are you-”

“I'm fine,” Akaashi assures him before he can even finish the question. He’s all flushed and lovely, breath still heavy and uneven. Bokuto’s grip tightens on his thighs, and a shivers runs through Akaashi’s entire body. 

“Then why’d ya make me stop?” Bokuto can't help but whine.

“I want...” He flushes and averts his gaze. It’s rare that Akaashi gets flustered by anything, but here he is, lip caught between his teeth as he works up the courage for the next words. “I want your fist.”

“Oh,” Bokuto says.

Akaashi looks as though he might crumple at rejection. “Do you - is that alright?”

For once in his life, Bokuto is left speechless. He nods dumbly.

Akaashi reaches a long arm behind himself and gropes blindly until he lands on the lube. “Please,” he murmurs as he hands it to Bokuto. How can he refuse?

Akaashi is so wet already, Bokuto hardly needs the lube as he slips his first finger in. Akaashi hums at the stretch, but shows no signs of discomfort. Good, Bokuto thinks as he works a second finger in. This is the easy part. 

Bokuto stays with two for a while, scissoring and searching until Akaashi is letting out little gasps every time Bokuto brushes over his prostate. It’s so tempting to just work him over like this, but Akaashi’s got that determined glint to his eyes that makes Bokuto’s blood burn. He obediently adds a third, then a fourth, until Akaashi is relaxed and pliant and open around him.

“Are you-”

“Yes,” Akaashi breathes out. He’s getting impatient.

“Okay. _Okay!_ Yeah!” Bokuto says, drawing his fingers out and fumbling to squirt more lube on them. His hand slips, and it ends up getting everywhere. “Uh, sorry, lemme just-”

“Do you not want to do this?” Akaashi asks. He comes up onto his elbows to study Bokuto, eyes steady and focused. It’s a familiar look, the same one he wears when they’re playing a big game and Akaashi is trying to read his mood. It makes Bokuto’s stomach all warm and flippy.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Bokuto confesses. He runs his clean hand up Akaashi’s thigh, pausing to rub at the jut of his hip and feel the way Akaashi shivers in response. “I just wanna make you feel good.”

Akaashi reaches a hand out to curl into Bokuto’s hair, drawing him into a slow, indulgent kiss. When they part, they’re both flushed and panting for breath. “You always make me feel good,” Akaashi says, resting their foreheads together. His hand finds Bokuto’s, and he traces a comforting circle into his palm. “That’s why I trust you.”

Bokuto feels a jolt of _something_ rush through his body at those words. He’s not sure if it’s arousal or pride or excitement, but he captures Akaashi’s lips in another kiss, desperate and dirty this time, all open mouths and high needy sounds coming from the both of them.

“Koutaro,” Akaashi gasps out, and goddamn if the fucked-out rasp of his voice doesn't turn Bokuto on. His hair is a mess, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, and the look he gives Bokuto is so intense Bokuto swears he feels it down to his toes. 

“I won't break. _Please_ ,” Akaashi says, and fuck, okay, they're doing this.

Akaashi lays back on the bed, knees bent and legs spread, while Bokuto fumbles with the lube and actually manages to get it on his hand this time. The buildup is quick this time. Akaashi takes his fingers easily, until Bokuto’s got four curling and uncurling over his prostate as he squirms on the sheets. Bokuto lets his thumb tease at the tender skin of Akaashi’s perineum, and Akaashi lets out a choked noise at the stimulation.

“Yeah?” Bokuto asks.

“Yes, yes, _please_.”

Bokuto draws his hand back just enough to tuck his thumb with the rest of his fingers, and then he’s sinking in, _in_ , so slow and gentle that Akaashi feels like he’s going to lose his mind. A strangled sound gets caught in the back of his throat as he stretches over the widest part of Bokuto’s hand, the knuckle at the base of his thumb testing the rim of his hole before finally, blessedly sliding in. 

Bokuto keeps his eyes trained on Akaashi even as he works his hand in. He watches, enraptured at the flutter of his eyelashes and the way his lips part over little gasps. He doesn’t stop until his hand is in all the way to the wrist. It’s a totally foreign feeling that leaves both of them a little breathless with awe. 

Bokuto clears his throat. It feels like sandpaper when he speaks. “Good?”

“ _Mmm._ ”

“‘Kaashi, I need you to tell me.”

“‘s good,” Akaashi manages. His voice is uncharacteristically reedy, chest heaving with irregular breaths. “Just need- a minute.”

Bokuto nods and allows himself to be distracted by the sight of Akaashi stretched over his wrist, open and vulnerable and all for him. He wants to move, wants to see what kinds of noises he can wring from Akaashi, wants to watch him fall apart from Bokuto’s fist inside him, but he waits.

“Tell me when,” He says, voice rough. This may have been Akaashi’s idea, but god if it isn’t working for Bokuto too. Akaashi’s pleasure has always been one of Bokuto’s greatest turn ons, but it’s never been quite like this before.

“You can move,” Akaashi says. He’s got one hand tangled in his own hair while the other twitches by his hip, tiny aborted movements like it wants to reach out and grab something - the sheets, his cock, Bokuto.

Bokuto leans down to place a gentle kiss at Akaashi’s collarbone. It’s sweet and tender, at odds with everything else they’ve done this evening. “Tell me if you need me to stop,” He says.

“What I need is for you to - _oh_.” Akaashi breaks off into a moan as Bokuto’s hand curls into a fist inside him.

Bokuto slowly twists his fist, testing. Akaashi is shaking beneath him, hands spasming. Bokuto presses forward then, just a little, but it must be good because Akaashi is gasping, both hands flying up to grab desperately at the headboard.

“There?”

Akaashi can’t form words, just nods his head frantically and whines as Bokuto slowly works his fist in and out. The whole of his hand is pressing against Akaashi’s prostate, leaving him an oversensitive mess on the mattress.

“Yer doin’ so good, Keiji.” Bokuto showers his face with kisses, a sloppy open-mouthed trail from his chin to the corner of his mouth, then over both of his eyelids. Akaashi’s hands move to clutch at Bokuto’s shoulders, nails leaving little crescents where they dig into to broad muscles of his back.

“Are you close?” Bokuto asks.

Akaashi doesn’t respond, _can’t respond_ , but it’s okay because his body is an open book, falling apart for Bokuto to read and rewrite with a twist of his fingers. He wraps his free hand around Akaashi’s cock, already red and leaking precum over the quivering muscle of his stomach.

“What d’ya need?”

“ _You_ ,” Akaashi cries out, endless and nearly unintelligible, _“you you you you please Koutaro you-”_

“Yeah,” Bokuto says, stroking Akaashi as he works his fist in shallow little thrusts. “I’m here, I got you, you can-”

Akaashi comes with a wordless cry, come painting his stomach as he clenches down around Bokuto.

Bokuto can’t help it, it’s so much. He ruts shamelessly at the crease of Akaashi’s thigh, hips stuttering. He doesn’t even need a hand, just comes like that, grunting as he makes a mess of Akaashi’s hips and thighs and stomach. It takes everything he has not to just collapse on his boyfriend, but he manages, letting his forehead rest on Akaashi’s sternum as he pants and comes down from the high of his orgasm.

Beneath him, Akaashi whimpers.

Bokuto stiffens in alarm, but he’s careful not to move. “Are you hurt?” He asks, panic seeping into his tone as his eyes roam Akaashi’s body, searching for signs of pain.

Akaashi shakes his head weakly. “No, just-” He breaks off to take in a shaky breath. Bokuto watches the way his whole chest shudders with it. “ _Sensitive._ ”

“Should I-” Bokuto feels stuck, not sure what to do with the hand still in Akaashi’s ass now that the fun part is over.

“Slowly, please.”

Bokuto traces soothing circles into Akaashi’s hip with one hand as he slowly draws out the other, his tongue poking out in concentration. They both breathe a sigh of relief when it’s out, and Akaashi practically melts into the sheets.

“Was it good?” Bokuto asks, thumbs twiddling nervously.

Akaashi laughs. “I just had the most intense orgasm of my entire life.”

Bokuto’s smile could light up all of Tokyo. “Yeah?”

Akaashi meets his gaze and smiles back, “Yeah.”

Bokuto swoops down for a kiss, sweet and tender. “‘M gonna cuddle you so good,” He says when they break apart.

Akaashi wrinkles his nose. “Not before washing your hands you’re not.”

Bokuto whines. “But _Keijiiii_.”

Akaashi rolls his eyes, but Bokuto catches the smile he can’t quite stop. “Hands first, cuddles later.” He shifts on the bed and frowns, looking down at the mess splattered across his stomach (and chest, and thighs, and ass, _and-_ ) “On second thought, hands, then bath, _then_ cuddles.”

“Oooh, but what about bath _and_ cuddles! Like at the same time!” Bokuto chirps, practically vibrating with excitement and beaming with pride over this absolutely _brilliant_ idea.

Akaashi lets out a fond chuckle as his head falls back against the pillows and his eyes slip shut. “I suppose that can be arranged.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> DO YOUR RESEARCH BEFORE FISTING, KIDS.


End file.
